Peekaboo

Wolverine opens today and that could be dirty, but I won't go there. It's been getting crappy reviews but will Hugh's allure be box office gold? Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Garner's movie also drops and I'm not sure why I want to see it. Matthew seems smelly to me, Jennifer is a little collageny (so perfect I hate/love her). Wedding, girl that got away, regrets, big declaration of love, OMP mentor--haven't I seen this before? Then again, I must support the stars. They need money. And I finally understand how they feel:

You see, Dish acquired Acquired Situational Narcissism for fifteen minutes. This is the official disease that makes stars whores for the limelight. This evening, I scampered to my favorite bar for a 1/2 scotch (1/2 because any more and I'd be smashed). Supermodel Bartender was there, sweet and gorgeous as always. Within a minute of my fanny hitting a stool, the bar phone rang and it was the owner, asking for me. I told no one I was going. It was a Covert Dish Operation where I'd stare at the walls, relax, and be by myself while surrounded by people. How did my former secret leprecaun flame know I was there? Turns out, he was watching me through a hidden camera. Leprecaun Flame was in an undisclosed location like Dick Cheney only way hotter. We chatted amiably, and I loved that someone watched me. You can't blame the celebs for needing the cameras to capture every muscle flex. The attention is like crack.

Speaking of which, I only have to wait 49 hours for Gale Harold on DH.